Requiem
by Zerrat
Summary: Trapped in the Den of Woe, Shuyin is tortured by thoughts of the past - was it really his choice to go after Vegnagun, or had he been destined to fail? Short one-shot. Revised 4/5/09.


**Requiem**

**Disclaimer: **_Final Fantasy X/X-2_ is copyright and property of Square Enix. I claim no ownership towards any characters present in the games.

A short look into Shuyin's insanity in the Den of Woe.

Revised 4th May, 2009.

_One thousand years of agony._

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* * *

_

The pyreflies flitted in and out of his line of sight, playfully taunting him. Daring him to reach into the past, relive the glory days of the blitzball arena, remember all that was lost. He stared through the twisting molecules of spirit, resting his chin on one gloved hand. Just outside his line of vision, light began to manifest – it cut through the pitch-black darkness, unveiling the befouled bodies that lay twisted on the ground.

Shuyin ignored the light, tried to force all thoughts from his head – if he didn't think, he wouldn't relive the horrors this time, that was it, that was –

"_You're all I can count on to save Lenne." _

Inevitably, his eyes were always drawn to the hideous memories of the past. Masochism, perhaps. He nodded to himself, watching with half-lidded eyes as his other self crossed the hidden chamber beneath Bevelle. Masochism sounded right.

It had seemed the inevitable conclusion to his relationship with the songstress. To save the one he loved with the weapon that was supposed to destroy her, along with Zanarkand's entire population. Poetic irony at its finest, he remembered thinking as he vaulted up to the piano that controlled the beast-like weapon. Vegnagun didn't seem unhappy with the arrangement; Shuyin had heard that the weapon became… difficult… when it sense ill-will in those that approached it.

"_Stop! That's enough!" _

Perhaps her voice would have been the only thing the blitzer would have stopped for at that point; he had been so determined to go through with his plan. Shuyin's eyes burned as they riveted themselves to the lightshow the pyreflies were making in the corner – he saw a copy of himself shouting down at Lenne, saw her turn in horror as the Bevelle guards charged into the room and shot the pair of them down with brutal accuracy.

His mind screamed at the final horror, his ethereal body trembling as he suppressed his own shriek of agony. The urge to scream and kill died with the light and the blond blitzer wiped away the angry tears on his cheeks. He loathed this cave. He loathed that the fools who had locked him in here had sealed themselves in too; if it were not for them, these pyreflies would not be dredging up this raw emotions and his secret horrors.

It had been so _simple._

A perfect plan, he knew that even now. Flawless. But it had always been destined to fail; Lenne would have always been Lenne. Her gentle heart and infinite kindness had been one of the very things to draw Shuyin to the songstress. But the truth was that presence doomed the plan from the start. Using the weapon to blow Bevelle off the face of Spira would have seemed so repulsive to her, so against the very core of her being that he should not have been so surprised to find her trying to stop him, trying to get him to resolve this peacefully.

If only he had listened. But it was in Shuyin's own nature to plough ahead stubbornly, unable to accept defeat and slink home to Zanarkand. He could never do that, not when Lenne would be back on the front lines within the week. So he had gone with his plan stubbornly, refusing to bend to his love's wishes. And now Lenne was dead.

His only defence was that it was in his nature to fight on, to never give up the game. It sounded weak and pathetic in his ears, in his own mind.

So he had been fated to charge ahead, and Lenne had been fated to stop him. His mouth twisted in distaste as he stared moodily at the exposed bones of the Bevelle guard to his left.

_Fate._

A disgusting concept now that he thought about it. How could _anybody _be fated to die in such horrific ways? To be a victim of factors outside their control; that was what he truly hated about that incident. Even as he was hauled into the cave Bevelle decided to bury him in, weak and dying, he still shuddered at the immensity of it. How had he ever thought to change things? How had he ever thought to win against Bevelle?

Damn it, he _would win. _

Perhaps it was the blitzer in him. Perhaps it was the creeping madness, growing stronger with each passing cycle of pyreflies. Perhaps it was both.

_Lenne. Maybe in death you will understand. Maybe you will forgive… but I will never forgive them. Not Bevelle. Not fate, either. I'll destroy it all._

His look hardened as he stared at the befouled bodies around him; centuries old, but their pyreflies still active and taunting.

In spite of the pyreflies growing brighter again, a grin crossed his face. Shuyin began to laugh softly, the remains of his sanity scattering as he began plot the destruction of this cursed Spira. Somewhere, he knew that Vegnagun would be waiting for him.


End file.
